


one of those days

by solace404



Series: trans tommy [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Days, Brother Feels, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Self-Mutilation, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Light Angst, Trans Male Character, Trans Tommyinnit, consider this a filler episode, its kinda a vent fic?, its not actually that dark, just a little angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27440200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solace404/pseuds/solace404
Summary: gender dysphoria is a bitch, one that lives rent free with tommy%%projecting onto minecraft men because I'm dysphoric as fuck
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: trans tommy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991500
Comments: 47
Kudos: 1127





	one of those days

**Author's Note:**

> cw and tw//  
> gender dysphoria, thoughts of self mutilation, transphobia, afab anatomy

The feeling had been slowly growing all day. He woke up feeling _off._ The feeling grew when he went down stairs to eat breakfast, when he watered the plants, and walked the dog. He felt like there were eyes on him. His skin was a little too tight and his shirts were a little too small. Tommy found himself thinking about a week ago when the waiter called him "ma'am". About in his biology class when everyone stared holes into the back of his head when they were learning about chromosomes and the difference between girls and boys.

He labeled the feeling as discomfort, the kind of discomfort only associated with utterly crippling and disheartening dysphoria. 

Tommy went to his room. He turned over the mirror with a scowl before changing into his tightest binder and largest hoodie. The teen even shaved in an effort to give himself an ounce of comfort. The only thing it did was remind him that he wasn't _really_ a man. He had to work to be a man. Somedays that thought was comforting but on days like these it was depressing. He had to work hard to feel remotely comfortable in his skin and yet he still has days like these. He felt pathetic. 

Tommy considered logging onto Discord to chat with his friends, but he knew it would just get him thinking. Instead, he decided to head in town and maybe get some ice-cream. 

The walk to the ice-cream shop was nothing short of painful. He felt people staring him down, Tommy couldn't help but ponder what they labelled him. _'girl', 'female', 'lady'._ His chest felt so _wrong,_ even with the help of his binder and hood. The teen wanted to scream his lungs out, punch something and take a knife to his god awful chest. He was absently grateful he left the house before these feelings came. 

The sickeningly sweet smell of dozens of ice-cream flavors broke Tommy from his trance. He took a deep breathe -ouch- and made his way to the counter. The person at the counter had long, brown hair tied in a purple ribbon and wore the ugly purple uniform of the shop. 

"What can I do for you?" They- Tommy took a quick glance at their name tag- Grace asked. 

"Uh.. I'll get some caramel ice-cream. Oh, uh, small please." The teen's voice was horse. 

The cashier nodded with a customer-service-smile and quickly scooped some into a small, purple container adorned with a purple plastic spoon. They gave it to him with plastic gloved hands. Tommy nodded in thanks, placed a quick 5 on the counter and walked outside. 

The blonde sat on metal bench with green paint chipping off of it from wear. The streets were relatively busy and provided background noise for Tommy's silent dinning. On a normal bad day this would be comfortable. Not today, though. Today, Tommy can feel phantom eyes drilling into him like nails, judging him. Anxiety manifested itself in Tommy's chest, spreading rapidly like a disease. The teen went home as quick as he could, an outing was too much for him today. 

Back in the 'comfort' of his room he sat, back propped up against his bed frame. He didn't know what to do, he felt gross and panicky. The teen wanted to shower. On one hand he knew that one look at himself could be his breaking point. But on the other, he knew his hair was greasy and a shower could really help with his nerves. He decided to give it a chance and if it really didn't work out, he wouldn't follow through. 

It didn't work out. 

He took off his shirt and binder, took one look at himself in the mirror and felt like throwing up. His face was masculine, he was tall, his shoulders were broad and manly, but in the middle of his chest _they_ were there. No matter what he did, no matter how much he prayed to a god he didn't believe in, how many times he was a thread of sanity away from taking a knife to his chest, _t_ _hey_ are always there. Despite being rather small, _they_ felt like a ton of bricks on Tommy's chest- on his soul.

He looked at himself until he could hardly recognize his own face through the blur of his tears. Tommy wiped his face but they just built up again, so he let them fall and fall and fall. They were falling when he put his binder and hoodie back on. They were falling when he exited the bathroom. And the hot tears are still here as he logs onto Discord, seeking the only comfort he knows.

The glowing green dot next to his friend's-his brother's- name gave him confidence that he wasn't going to be too much of a bother. Taking a slow, hiccuping breath, he clicks on the call button and waits. Within 30 seconds, he picks up. 

"Tommy!" Wilbur greets with a cheery voice.

Tommy takes another deep breath, "'Ello Wilbur." 

The silence on the line indicates that Wilbur definitely heard the exhaustion and emotion in the teen's voice. 

"Tommy, you good?" Wilbur asks with caution.

"Not really big man." Tommy chuckles with a sniffle and a hiccup. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he starts before adding, "or do you just want a distraction?" 

"Could we, uh, talk briefly and then a distraction would be nice." Tommy suggests gingerly, he wasn't one to hide his feelings but talking about this subject was very new to him. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm all ears, kid." The older responds with care in his voice .

"Just a real bad gender dysphoria day, y'know." He says, emphasizing the the words gender and dysphoria dramatically to lighten the atmosphere. He hears a noise of acknowledgment from the other end of the line. "I, uh, didn't feel comfortable in the ol' body, if you know what I mean." 

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Wilburs starts, "And Tommy, I've never experienced this and I'm not sure if my words will be of any comfort but I'd like to say some things." 

"Came to you for a reason, Big Dubs." Tommy states, allowing Wilbur to continue. 

"Ahem, Tommyinnit, you are a man. A big man. A lanky, awkward teenage boy in his purest form. You sound like a man, you look like a man and goddamn to you act like one, all loud and annoying. You are a man. You're body doesn't define you, it doesn't define anything about you. You are a man, I know you're a man, _everyone_ sees you as a man. And I know that these words aren't a magical cure-all but by God I hope you aren't doubting your status in the eye of me and in the eyes of others. You're a man, Tommyinnit." Wilbur breathes after that monologue and the line is silent for a moment, interrupted only by Tommy's sniffles. 

"Thank you, Wilbur. Really." Is all the teen could say, it felt pathetic compared the the speech he was just given, in his honor, but both parties knew he meant it. 

"Anytime, Tommyinnit." Wilbur responds, fondness evident in his voice, "Now lets play some fuckin' Minecraft!" 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the late update! expect another one soon ;)
> 
> oooo you wanna write trans tommy so bad ooooo


End file.
